Windwalker - Elaine Cunningham [47]
She started for the door, drawing the sword as she went. A hum of magical energy jolted through it, and a baritone voice broke into fervent song:
"Who draws the sword commands my voice; My song pours forth at your command! Let evil bleed and good rejoice While hymns of victory speed thy hand!"
Sharlarra let out an exasperated curse. She kicked shut the door and prayed that no one had heard. "A singing sword! Damn and blast that man!"
"I don't command perdition's gates, Nor can I hurl a blasting fire; Yet mortal agony awaits The man who dared arouse your ire," the sword sang apologetically.
"Thanks ever so much, but we're in disguise today," she told the sword. "That means no singing."
She felt a dimming of power, uncannily like a human sigh of disappointment, then the magic again blazed bright. The sword switched from song to oratory.
"No melody shall sing thy praise, Yet ringing meter I'll declaim! In spoken verse my voice I'll raise That quaking foes may know thy name!"
Sharlarra gritted her teeth in frustration and glanced toward the ceiling. The scuff of boots on the deck had the leisurely pace of men at ease. The sailors had not yet perceived the coming threat. Time wasted now meant blood spilt later.
"One more word, and I'll have you melted down and recast as a chamber pot. Got it?"
"Hmm hmmm-hm hmm-"
"Sweet sodding Mystra!" she exploded. "Why couldn't Danilo have purchased a Sembian sword? Those weapons know how to take a hint! Listen: No singing, no declaiming, no humming, no idle chit chat. Just kill things. Quietly."
At last the sword subsided. Sharlarra hurried down the narrow corridor and scrambled up the ladder. She drew the disguised weapon and pointed it toward the sea.
"Sea ogres approaching, lads! Let's give them a proper welcome!" she roared, doing her best to imitate Fyodor's Rashemaar accents.
Several of the sailors stopped and looked at her quizzically. Belatedly, the elf realized that her illusion did not extend to her voice-she still spoke in her own sultry elven purr. She'd forgotten to steal one of the berserker's weapons. Without it, the illusion was incomplete.
The sword in her hand chuckled softly.
Sharlarra was saved by a shout from the crow's nest, and the clatter of men gathering weapons to meet yet another foe.
A pair of huge, webbed hands slapped onto the rail. One of the pirates ran forward and slashed down with his cutlass, but another hand thrust forward and caught the man's wrist, halting the blow with ease. A quick twist disarmed the pirate and sent him to his knees. He rolled away a second before enormous feet thumped onto the deck.
The creature crouched in guard position was like no merrow in any lorebook Sharlarra had ever seen. Its head was fishlike, with a spiny standing fin starting at the crown and running down the length of its back. Two large side fins resembled exaggerated elven ears, and its large round eyes were as black and hungry as a shark's. The hideous head was split by an enormous mouth lined with stiletto-like fangs. A sea serpent's tail-long and sinuous and ending in a double row of spikes-flowed from a heavily muscled humanoid torso. Four thick arms, each armored with a ruff of elbow spikes, flexed in preparation for battle.
"Sea devils!" shouted a stout, red-bearded man. "Sahuagin aboard!"
A ringing battle shout burst from Sharlarra's sword, and it fairly leaped toward the crouching monster. The elf followed as best she could, muttering a bloodboil spell as she went.
The sahuagin batted aside the attacking sword with an open-handed swat. One of its upper hands seized Sharlarra's tunic and jerked her up to eye level. Another hand closed around her sword arm with bone-crushing force, and the gaping jaws spread in anticipation.
The black eyes turned glassy, and a fetid steam hissed and swirled through the monster's bared fangs. All of its hands began to tremble violently